


Drunk on you

by Henndra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:37:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7099468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Henndra/pseuds/Henndra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has a thing for taking home blondes, but what happens when he wakes up one morning with none other than Draco Malfoy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk on you

He was beyond drunk. He didn’t know how he’d let himself slip that much. One moment he was teetering on the edge of tipsy and next the room was spinning and bodies were swaying and this gorgeous blonde was gripping onto him like his life depended on it; he could never say no to blondes.

The first kiss was a mash of lips on lips, and sweat and spirits and stubble. The heat of it was amazing and Harry chased it with all he had. 

They took a taxi. He vaguely remembers climbing into it, or being dragged along into it by the blonde. Connected by lips and hips. He slurred his address, he remembers that with clarity. The jangling of his keys and the cold brisk air as he tried to open the door, wandering hands questing downwards through his torn jeans.

“Fuck yess!” He hissed, leaning back into an onslaught of kisses sloshed along his neck, and then the door sprung free. They stumbled up the stairs to his bedroom, and peeled off clothes in a flurry of excitement. 

‘This guy was fit,’ was all he could think as their bodies rolled together. “So hot!” He murmurs instead, and he feels their smile creep into their kiss. 

He aches, he wants it, his nerves are on fire and he’s horny as all hell, but he can’t think and he can’t clear his head enough. 

The blonde starts rolling his hips, their erections rubbing against each other deliciously and Harry decides for now this is enough. He grips onto his partners hips, and can’t help the moans that slip his lips. 

Its messy and they’re both too intoxicated for this, but it's good, its great and he’s vaguely aware that he’s crying out ‘Draco! Oh Draco!’ but he doubts this guy even knows what he’s talking about anyway. He only went to muggle bars to pick up.

His blonde comes first, and rolls over to the empty spot on the bed, fisting his erection to completion, Harry falls asleep next to him.

 

-__--__--__-

 

Draco Malfoy woke up to a white ceiling with molded trimmings, he was in a large four poster bed with no curtains and naked. Naked and sticky. 

He turned to face the groan beside him. 

“Potter.” He meant to ask as a question but instead it came out sounding like a fact, which he guessed it was, as Harry Potter did turn around to face him.

Draco saw the very instant Harry recognized him, eyes impossibly wide, it was at this moment he realized that Potter had been wearing contacts last night. 

“Malfoy?” He whispered hoarsely, clutching at his head a moment later. “Oh fuck!”

“That unsatisfactory ey?”

“What?” Potter craned his neck to ask, rising up off the bed to sit, regretting it a moment later. Or maybe just regretting Draco, he wasn’t too sure. 

“Look if-” 

Potter ran from the bed, at break neck speeds, throwing open a door Draco hadn’t bothered to notice, a bathroom door and soon his ears were filled with the sound of violent regurgitation. 

Draco found his left boot, and pulled his wand from the small sheath hidden inside, spelled himself clean and started pulling his clothes on. 

By the time he was clothed he heard the toilet flush, he hovered absent-mindedly as the sink ran, and watched as Potter came bumbling back out, still naked, with a toothbrush in his mouth. 

“Here!” He threw something at Draco, which he instinctively caught. 

“Hangover Helper; patent pending.” Harry explained, very obviously eyeing Draco’s attire. 

“Granger?”

“Granger-Weasley now but yes.”

Draco swallowed it, and the ache to his brain he hadn’t been focusing on too hard cleared up. He nodded in appreciation. “It’s good.”

“Yeah, well.” Harry ducked away to finish up with his teeth, as if that was a satisfactory explanation. Upon returning to the room he seemed surprised to see Draco still standing there, ‘of course!’ Draco sneered to himself.

“The exit would be?” He said instead.

“Oh! Right, um, I’ll show you.” 

Draco waited for him to pull on his jeans, slinging them over his hips as he exited the door, taking him down a staircase Draco barely recollected, down into a foyer of sorts just off of a sizable sitting room.

“Um? Cuppa before you go? I mean, just nevermind.”

“Never done this before have you?” Draco can't help but be amused to notice, confusion crossing a fleeting wave across Potter's features.

“Not with anyone I know, no.” Potter answered cautiously, holding onto the doorframe leading in.

“Yes well-” and now Draco found himself to be just as articulate as Potter. What should he say? Thank you? Have a good day? Yes, now I've seen you naked? “...thanks for for the potion?” And with that Draco pulled open what he hoped was the front door.

One final glance back caught Potter obviously working through something in his head. The proper etiquette on a one night stand with a former nemesis?

He was one foot out the door when Potter grabbed him and planted a soft peck against his lips. As soon as he was there, he was gone again. The door closed, leaving Draco Malfoy confused on the sidewalk.

 

-_--_--_-

 

“Seriously? That would have been weird!” Ron cried a little too loudly.

“Trust me, next morning it was!” Harry focused on the grain of the desk in front of him trying to hide his discomfort. 

“How did you not know you were taking Malfoy home? I mean Malfoy? Of all people!” Ron talked a lot with his hands, throwing them about with emphasis.

“I was drunk. I didn't care. I saw blonde hair and then we were snogging and then we got a taxi…” Harry let the details slide, Ron never cared too much about the details of his love life anyway.

“Fuck!” Ron exhaled, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. “So how was it?”

If Harry had a mouth full of liquids, he would have spat them clear across the table. “Excuse me!?!”

“What?” 

“Why are you asking me this? I thought you hated him?!” Harry flushed all over.

Ron gathered in close, finally bringing his voice down into a whisper as if he were about to share a secret. “Mate, its been awhile since the war but that ain't the point. You! Like him a lot, so after all this time, finally getting what you want, how was it?” 

Ron was about a breath away from laughing at him he gathered, his conspiratory look only holding up so well.

“I was drunk! I told you, we didn't even do much. And then in the morning he was just his usual intimidating self, and I didn't know what to say!” 

Ron chuckled.

“Oh and what, the morning after is the perfect time to turn around and say ‘hey, I fancy you, want to go out sometime?’ Geez!”

Ron dissolved into a fit of giggles, leaving Harry to cross his arms in disgust, scanning the crowd of the Ministry Cafeteria.

It was from a doorway close by that Malfoy suddenly appeared, in his usual glory, all except for the disgruntled look he directed Harrys way, turning his insides out. 

‘Great, now he hates me!’ Harry sighed to himself.

 

-_--_--_-

 

Harry was making way for the Atrium that Friday night, it was late and he was itching to get out of his Auror Robes, he hoped into an elevator and felt it speed off instantaneously.

With a startling stop it opened its doors not a second or so later, to one Draco Malfoy.

“It’s just an elevator ride Potter, I’m sure you’ll manage.” Draco turned to face the door and didn’t move a beat until they reached the Atrium. 

“Potter.” Malfoy nodded in goodbye.

“Draco,” he gave a little wave, walking in the opposite direction.

 

Harry didn’t usually go out on a Friday night, he only went out Saturdays, and not every weekend either. In fact, it was almost a rarity, but he was feeling shite and couldn’t shake the curling feeling inside his stomach that he had ruined any chance he ever had with Malfoy.

He didn’t even know Malfoy liked men until he woke up in the same bed as him. What were the chances he’d even pick him up at a muggle bar in the first place? And why did it have to be the one night where he’d gotten a little too drunk?

Draco Malfoy sat his drink down on the table in front of Harry’s looked at him expectantly.

He froze in surprise, not even beginning to question what or how he had come to find him here. “I promise, I’m not a lush.” Was the first thing out of his mouth.

Draco almost smiled, “Right, not a lush, so what just a hornbag?”

Harry felt his cheek flame though he was almost certain it wouldn’t show. “No. Not a hornbag either.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Look, could we just not? I’m sure you have far better things to do than harass me all night!” Harry cried, fidgeting without his drink.

Draco squinted a little, sizing him up in a predatory way.

“Muggles.” He stated, “Anonymity?”

Harry coughed, “Something like that.”

Draco took a sip of his drink and leaned back into his chair. “So.”

“So?” Harry repeated back.

“I’m waiting for some sort of explanation really. For you to reason away why you took me home that night, that’s all!”

“You took me home! You pushed me into a cab!”

Draco smirked. “That I did.”

“Look, I’d had a rough case okay. Lost an innocent in a hostage situation, I wasn’t doing my best. I drank too much alright. I’m sorry for- just- sorry! Okay?”

Draco’s smirk faded, he settled his drink down before standing up, offering an outstretched hand. Harry didn’t know why he took it, but he could only assume.

Draco pulled him through the bar, away from the dance floor, and pulled him down a corridor, towards the back exit. He threw Harry roughly up against the wall and starting working on his neck. His actions more honed this time, without finishing his first drink. Harry melted into, his tongue the traitor letting loose a series of gasps and sighs.

“You said my name Potter. I had you at my mercy in your bed and you were clawing for me and you were crying my name!” He gasped into the shell of Harry’s ear. 

Harry winced.

“You may have been drunk but I was just getting there, I remember Potter, you can’t lie to me now. I overheard you tell Weasley that you didn’t know who you took home that night! Now tell me, why were you lying?!”

Draco bit down on Harry’s neck and he gasped at the sensation, his hips bucking forward against his will.

“I wasn’t lying!” He gasped, “I wasn’t- I wasn’t lying. I didn’t- I didn’t know! I promise.” Harry exclaimed as if he were under torture, Draco's grasp on his body too much, the ache in his pants too tight for them.

Suddenly Draco let go and Harry’s whole body grieved the loss.

Harry had to meet his gaze, if he had any self-respect left, he decided, he would. Draco looked at him strangely before whispering barely within the range of hearing. “Oh! I’m not done with you yet!”

 

Harry landed with a thud on the soft cushion of a bed. Draco had apparated them away, he could only assume to his bedroom. 

At the foot of the bed Draco stood waiting, his composure barely holding, even Harry could see through his controlled exterior.

“Why?” 

“What?” Harry stood to kneel, nearly toppling over what he could only assume was the biggest bed he had ever seen in his life.

“Why would you call out my name, if you didn’t even know you were with me? Or are you lying now?” Draco gritted the last question out through his teeth, his eyes shining with something akin to fire.

Harry couldn’t get out of it now, damn the consequences, damn everything else, he didn’t have a chance with Malfoy anyway.

“Malfoy it’s just-” he tried. “Look, I don’t go out prowling for men like you probably now think I do, okay, just occasionally, when the itch deserves to be scratched, or, on bad days when I just want to forget everything else.” He hoped Draco understood his meaning. “Anyway, it didn’t take me long to notice, that when I did bring men home, I had a type. Or more, it was like they were substituting for someone.”

Draco glanced up to notice Harry then, the sheen in his eyes looking more like unshed tears now than anything else.

Harry pushed on, reaching closer to Draco by the edge of the bed. “It’s not the first time.” He whispered. “That I’ve called out, for you. You see…” He forced himself to get through all of it, to say everything he had to say, “No matter who I’m with. I’d rather be with you.”

 

-_--_--_-

 

The word ‘ _ you.. _ ’ seemed to cling to the air like frost and for too long it was all Draco could hear and nothing else.

Harry wanted to be with him. 

“You’re fucking sick!” He spat, pushing them both backward onto the bed. “Fucking everyone upon my name! Whoring yourself out to every blonde you see?!” He pressed a desperate kiss upon Potter’s lips and felt tears burn down his cheeks like a knife. He thrashed at Harry’s shirt, trying to rip it open, the buttons be damned!

“It’s not like that!” Harry cried helplessly, searching for Draco’s face, trying to hold his gaze and probably hypnotize him once more. 

“How long?!”

“What?” Harry panted out, holding himself up by his elbows.

“HOW LONG!” Draco cried, tightening his hold upon Harry’s hips with his thighs, lest he fall off in a fit of rage. 

“Draco please!” Harry whined but Draco fixed him with a glare, “Fine. Eighth year. I think.”

“You think?”

“Look I try not to look back past the war and try to understand the logics of love and hate okay? All I know, is that by eighth year, I was mad for you. You and I, we were sort of friends at one point! And then-”

“I grew cold.” Draco finished, his rage subsiding, he dismounted Potter and stepped down off the bed in one long stride. 

“I tried to forget Draco, but you started up at the Ministry and you were everywhere, and after school ended and how weird you got- I didn’t know how to start up with you again. I tried asking you out! You always sneered at me and walked off.” 

“No you didn’t! I would have remembered that.”

“I invited you for out for drinks, several times. Asked you what your weekend plans were several times. I even asked you out to lunch that one time but you said you were busy!” Harry cried. 

“I WAS busy!” Draco snapped back, still not daring to look back at Potter. 

“Look, I should go. I’m sorry I upset you. Maybe next time I fall for a guy I’ll just walk up to them and ask them to fuck or something, yeah? Geez!” Harry stood up, rubbed down his face, and swore under his breath. “I can’t believe this. I can’t. What would I have had to do, to have won you? To have swept you off your feet or whatever? What did I do wrong?”

Harry faced him with an accusatory glare, his shirt still ripped open, his face impassioned and real. It nearly broke Draco entirely to face him, but face him he did.

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong.”

Harry’s face drooped into a sad sort of misery, anguish almost.

“Eighth year.” Harry looked up at him at that, “It happened eighth year. I caught you mid-embrace with Ginny Weasley and decided that no matter how hard I’d fallen for you, it was all in my mind. It would never work. I came back from school holidays, resolved upon ignoring you at every turn. I completed my exams and left school with a broken heart.”

“And I a bruised one. You know Ginny and I are just friends, have been since the war ended. Draco!” Harry reached for him, placed a soft warm thumb upon his face. “You must have known, me and her were never a thing then.”

He said nothing.

“Please!” Harry almost shook, “Tell me that one stupid misunderstanding didn’t ruin everything! I didn’t even get a chance with you! Please! Draco!”

Draco was shaking now, trembling more like, crumbling into Potter’s waiting arms. 

Harry petted his hair mumbling “Nonononononononononono-” Under his breath, letting Draco sob into his chest. 

-_--_--_-

 

Draco had calmed down, and Harry needed to leave. 

He felt sick to his stomach, like fate had fought against him and he’d lost.

“Stay.” Draco whispered face down into his bedsheets, Harry moved away from him, afraid to give any sort of response. 

“I should go.”

“Why? Because you’ve fucked so many other people before me, am I not good enough for you now? Saintly Potter and his Saintly Cock, can’t even handle one more Death Eater!” 

Harry spun them around in one quick movement, pushing Draco into the mattress through his wrists, until they were face to face, bodies pressed together. 

“Don’t talk like that! You know you’re better than that! We worked through this! Together, all those years ago!”

Their noses touched.

“Fuck me Potter,” Draco whispered. “Fuck me!” He begged again.

“No.” Harry sighed, rising up to remove his shirt. “I need you, Draco. I’ve needed you for so long. I can’t even pretend to be a gentleman about it now.”

Draco stared up at him through a vacant expression, Harry undid the button of his trousers, before unzipping them and pushing them down to his knees. That seemed to wake Draco up from his trance-like state.

Draco pushed him back onto the bed, switching their positions. He helped Harry out of his pants, and got rid of his own.

“Draco-”

“I want to tear your damn pants off but I’ve never understood these damn muggle briefs!” Draco answered, pulling at them until they were both completely nude.

“I believe this is the part we got a little too drunk to get past before?” Draco tried to tease but it only worried Harry more.

“Draco, please. You don’t have to do this if you’re not-”

“Harry. Shush!” He smiled, and it was the first brilliant smile he’d seen since eighth year and so he let it go.

Draco summoned lube from Harry knew not where, and slicked his fingers in preparation. He circled Harry’s hole for a beat, before trying to push forward with the tip of his digit. Harry quivered with anticipation. 

“Just me?” Draco asked.

“Yes.” Harry’s voice quivered, “And a very obliging dildo called Morrison.”

“Morrison?”

“I don’t know, I thought it was funny to name it at the time.”

Draco snickered, and the sound of it set Harry’s heart alight. 

“Just get to it already!” Harry hid his face with his outstretched arm, hiding his embarrassment. 

“Got to be delicate about it, how else am I supposed to hold a candle to the revered Morrison?” Draco teased, and pressed his finger once more to the crevice of his arse.

Draco lay flat against his sheets, watching as he pumped that lonely finger in. Under his scrutiny Harry felt a bit bashful of every reaction, every noise he made until Draco added a second, using it to scissor him open. 

“Oh fuck.” Harry whispered, reaching for a pillow or a headboard, something to grip onto. 

Draco quickly added a third and began pumping at him in earnest, pushing and pulling, applying more lube and doing it all over again. 

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!”

“Such a dirty mouth.” Draco murmured into Harry’s skin, kissing at the crease of his thigh and hip. 

“Yeah? Come up here and say that to my dirty mouth, you prick! Oh-ugh god!” Harry whined, latching onto Draco’s lips as they come down to meet him. 

The singing heat was still there, the kisses soft and pliant but filled with promises and eagerness. “Fuck!” Draco cried this time. “Do you think? Maybe-?”

“Yes, fuck, please. Now yes!” 

Draco panted out a grin, and pulled his fingers out, using what leftover to slick over his swollen cock. 

Harry would have gulped comically but he didn’t, instead he rested his head back down on the mattress and focused on Draco’s face instead. 

“Ready?”

“Yessss!” Harry sighed, feeling immediately the brunt of Draco’s cock head pushing at his asshole. 

After a bit of jiggling and coaxing, the head went past the outer ring with a pop and Harry welcomed the intrusion. Overwhelmed he reached out for Draco, reaching up to pull him closer, to feel his heartbeat next to his own.

“This is how it should have been.” He whispered into Draco’s shoulder, feeling the slow slide of Draco’s cock as it nudged inside bit by bit. He gripped onto Draco’s arse, and widened his legs, forcing Draco in just that little bit more. 

“Fuck!” Draco cried, almost fully sheathed, his hair flopping about his eyes. “A little warning next time! You’re so tight.”

They hung there for a minute, Draco nestled between his legs, his hands claiming each of Harry’s arms possessively.

“Your scars…” Harry began.

“Potter, you already apologized for those remember? We made quite a mess of it.” Draco whispered lowly, almost fearful to trip the moment.

“No, I mean. I don’t know how I didn’t noticed them that night, even now, they’re splattered across your chest. Even drunk I would have remembered them.”

“A glamour.” Draco said finally, “For the sectumsempra scar’s and for this.” He nodded toward the faded remnants of the dark mark.

“It’s faded nicely since I saw it up close last.” Harry whispered, his insides clenching around Draco, relaxing into Draco.

“Yes, well as I said, we made quite a mess of that night. Should have been an example for us to never mix alcohol together!” Draco laughed falsely, and in that moment Harry wanted nothing more than to tell him that he loved him. 

“Kiss me.” Harry whispered and Draco did, jutting his hips forwards in small strokes. 

Harry closed his eyes, and let it all wash over him, the soft lips on his, the lovely stretch and pull of Draco’s cock, the heat of his whole body pressing against his. “Draco!” He whimpers, clutching onto Draco’s back, forcing his kisses to slip down his jaw and down his neck. “Draco, Draco more! Please more!” ‘Everything!’ He wanted to cry, but instead he settled for the overwhelming ache that settled in his chest, and the pleasure that burned through his middle, dragging his hands across the expanse of Draco’s back, rocking his hips into Draco’s quickening thrusts.

“Draco! Please, fuck, fuck!”

Draco lunged at him, pulled his arms above his head, fucking harder, faster, deeper. “Open your eyes!” Draco hissed, “Open your eyes and kiss me!”

Harry keened with lust, the pressure of Draco’s whole body smothering him, he let go and surrendered to Draco, his eyes wide open watching Draco fuck him mercilessly. Then it clicked, “Draco.” He said evenly, and watched as Draco lit up at his name. Draco was real, and this was not a fantasy.

“Harry.” He grunted back, and kissed him squarely on the mouth, nearly losing momentum. 

 

“Harry come for me!” Draco grunted once more.

“What?”

“Despite our earlier tryst, I am not usually a selfish lover. Fucking come for me Potter!” Draco grunted, his arms shaking with the strain of keeping himself hovered over Harry.

He jumped into action and stroked himself, “Say it again!”

“Come for me Potter!” Draco spat, and Harry audibly whined, almost pathetically so pumping harder and harder. “Harry, Harry now, please! Fuck! I’m-”

They came together, Harry had no idea how. He could hardly breath to think of anything aside from the shuddering ecstasy rippling through his body.

He held onto Draco, as he rode out the last of his orgasm, holding him close afraid to let him go. He winced as Draco slipped out of him, aching.

“If I have to ask you to stay again, I’m afraid I will hex your balls off, as delightful as they seem!” Draco huffed exhaustedly into Harry’s shoulder.

Harry snorted, “Ha! You think I’m ever going to leave?”

Draco laughed, as he regained control over his breath.

“Breakfast. Tomorrow, please. I’ll take you out. We’ll do brunch, we’ll do lunch and then dinner. I don’t care. Just!-”

“Shhhh! Potter sleep. Tomorrow is Saturday. We can start with all this trivial dating stuff then.” Draco curled into Harry closer, ignoring the petulant look upon his face.

“But Draco!” Harry argued.

“I’m yours Harry. I’m yours.” Draco sighed, probably edging closer to sleep than wakeful thought but Harry smiled anyway, warmed by notion.

“Mine?” He whispered back.

“Always.” Draco breathed.


End file.
